


I Love You (I Know)

by Pixel Cat (Pixel_Cat)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Brief mentions of OW team and Hanzo's parents, Caring boyfriends, Feelings Heavy, Fluffy McCree, Hanzo Angst, Hanzo has issues with self-expression, Hanzo-centric, Hopefully this isn't too shitty sorry, M/M, McHanzo - Freeform, McHanzo Week 2017, Mostly introspection, angsty, dwelling in the past, some fluff at the end, some recaps for my headcanons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-15 20:46:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11238876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixel_Cat/pseuds/Pixel%20Cat
Summary: Hanzo wanted to tell Jesse how much he loved him. He wanted to tell Jesse that he changed Hanzo for the better, helped him become a happier man with his stupid jokes and even stupider smiles. He wanted to tell Jesse that all those nights they spent drinking together on the highest tower at Gibraltar at night made him see life in a different way....But every time he tried, his throat would close up and refuse to utter a sound. Speechless. Soundless. Heartless.McHanzo Week Day One: Morning/Night





	I Love You (I Know)

**Author's Note:**

> Ayyyy yo, here's my contribution. Sorry for mistakes in spelling or grammar. I just wrote my heart out. :)

     Hanzo wanted to tell Jesse how much he loved him. He wanted to tell Jesse that he changed Hanzo for the better, helped him become a happier man with his stupid jokes and even stupider smiles. He wanted to tell Jesse that all those nights they spent drinking together on the highest tower at Gibraltar at night made him see life in a different way. He wanted to tell Jesse that, thanks to his steady and supportive presence, he was able to work up the courage to make amends with not only Genji, but himself. Hanzo also wanted to tell Jesse that he saw the stars in his eyes, the sun in his smile, and the love on his lips.

 

     But every time he tried, his throat would close up and refuse to utter a sound. Speechless. Soundless. Heartless. It was almost like Hanzo was at war with himself. His heart wished to speak, but his body refused. Though it would seem like the issue of this dilemma laid on the back of his relationship with Jesse, it was far more likely that the problem came from Hanzo. Raised to be the heir of the Shimada clan, Hanzo was never taught self-expression. His training sessions with his archery teacher were the closest substitute for the typical hobbies and skills that acted as conduits for individuality. His parents didn’t make the matter any better either. His father denied Hanzo any affection or leniency whenever they sparred, and more than that, his father also frequently taught him brutal and severe lessons in humility, honor, loyalty, and pride. There were also many days in which Hanzo would not even catch so much as a glimpse of his father, whether within their home or on their clan’s massive territories.

 

     Hanzo’s mother was a different case altogether.

 

     As the wife of an infamously powerful crime lord, his mother was neither meek, gentle, nor kind. She was imbued with the same ruthlessness and callousness as Hanzo’s father. She, personally, took charge over Hanzo’s education both conventionally and unconventionally. Between the sessions of studies in mathematics, science, and so on, Hanzo’s mother taught him the skills he needed to survive as the heir to the Shimada legacy. She showed him how to become a shadow in the night, how to blend into any crowd in broad daylight, how to kill a man before he so much as breathed. She was the most influential person in his life. The most vital, the most present, and the most  _ toxic _ . And if there was one truth that his mother held above any other, it was that  _ love is the tool of manipulation. _

 

     She hadn’t loved Hanzo’s father when they married. It was her duty and her family’s gain. Nearly infinite power and resources at her family’s fingertips in return for his mother’s happiness and freedom. And shortly after, Hanzo was born to solidify the tie between his mother and father. And years later, Genji followed. 

 

     But love was never a factor in Hanzo’s life until after he struck Genji down.

 

     That night had been storming. Brilliant flashes of lightning, deafening roars of thunder, and raindrops raining down like bullets from an angry heaven. It was beautifully horrible because Hanzo and Genji had loved storms as children. They used to sneak out of the inner compound to run around in the private courtyard, splashing in puddles and throwing their arms in the air the way children did without anything weighing down their unbridled joy. They would romp around and play fight like puppies, Genji puffing up like a slighted bird whenever Hanzo managed to pin him down with tickles, pokes, and demands to say that  _ Hanzo was the best and Genji was the worst_. 

 

     But that night, they were not children. They were young men with weary arms and solemn hearts. They clashed, just as they did as children years before, with sharp swords, and fell into the same steps of the intricate and deadly dance they were always taught to perform. They would swing, jab, and parry; bounce back and forward, defensive and aggressive. And, of course, Genji slipped up. A step miscalculated just ever so slightly in the manner that he always had when they were just children playing in the rain. And similarly to back then, Hanzo did not hesitate and did not falter. 

 

     Victory and silence.

 

     It took weeks after Genji’s death for Hanzo to identity the hollowness pressing down upon his chest.  _ Loss_.  A vicious, empty feeling that reached deep into the depths of Hanzo’s being and pulled out everything that was sheltered within him. He had murdered his younger brother. Genji, the one who dyed his hair green on an impulse. Genji, the one who Hanzo had dragged back home countless times from bars and arcades but secretly appreciated because he was given an excuse to escape his family for a moment. Genji, the only person who knew Hanzo for who he was and not who he was supposed to be.

 

     And although Hanzo learned that grief was to be all consuming and painful from the literature he read, this one was simply silent. A brutal kind of loss that was felt at Hanzo’s core because he was  _ empty.  _ Before that fateful night, Hanzo had felt a semblance of humanity (he lived, he breathed, and he felt. That was enough for him then.). But afterwards? He had felt inhuman. Cold, callous, and cruel. A  _ murderer_ . His clan had raised him to be a murderer.

 

     Hanzo had loved Genji. He was his brother, friend, and only confidant. And he was gone. Hanzo had killed him before he knew how much Genji had meant to him. And if he had known before, he never would followed the elders’ orders. He never would have raised his sword. But hindsight was always 20/20, and though Hanzo knew that there was nothing he could ever do to make up for his mistake, he had to do something. He had to atone for what he had done.

 

     And so, with a vast hollowness in his chest, Hanzo had cut ties with the Shimada clan, and swore to bring them to ruin on the behalf of the brother he had killed.

 

 

     But life had strange ways of working, and during one of his yearly visits to Hanamura to pay respects to his brother, Hanzo discovered Genji to be alive---though in a sort of limbo in which he was not a human but not yet an omnic. A cyborg stuck between the two worlds of organic and inorganic beings. Along with his brother’s return into his life, Hanzo was offered a place within the new Overwatch team being assembled despite the continued enforcement of the Petras Act. After their encounter and some days spent mulling over his conflictions, Hanzo agreed to join and the rest was history. There were missions, breaks, and tender moments of friendship and family that Hanzo had never thought he’d ever experience again since that stormy night so long ago.

 

     The emptiness left his chest steadily as time passed, and Hanzo was whole again.

 

     Then Jesse McCree wormed his way past Hanzo’s rigid exterior and even more frigid interior until all Hanzo could feel was warmth and affection and  _ love. _ But yet even with his best attempts, he just can’t bring his feelings to life. He can’t push the words past his lips and into the air so he can watch Jesse’s eyes go wide with an unbelievably gentle smile stretching across his face. With a quiet exasperated sigh, Hanzo flopped over on Jesse’s bed. Face muffled by the cowboy’s pillow, he allowed himself to let out a weak scream of frustration.

 

     “Are ya alright, darling? It looks like you’re havin’ some trouble over there.” Jesse laughed.

 

     Hanzo turned his head to throw a mild glare in Jesse’s direction. “I am fine.” He muttered as Jesse simply raised an eyebrow.

 

     “Are ya sure? Because it doesn’t look like it to me, sweetpea.”

 

     “I am simply tired,” Hanzo replied easily as he lied through his teeth, “Soldier:76’s training regime today was rather rigorous compared to the ones that Winston and Athena designed for us originally.”

 

     Jesse nodded in agreement. “I thought so too, Han, especially when the old bastard let Torbjörn build his turrets everywhere. I thought we were goners for sure til ya pulled out those scatter arrows of yours.”

 

     Hanzo made a quiet sound of agreement and closed his eyes as he dwelled on his inability to articulate his feelings for Jesse. But the more he dwelled on his thoughts, the more drowsy Hanzo felt until he could feel his brain struggling to stay focused. His body felt as heavy as a boulder, and his limbs were loose and unresponsive. As he slowly started to drift away into sleep, Hanzo heard shuffling and he opened his eyes to watch Jesse strip off his serape and his clothes until he stood in his boxers. His favorite pair, Hanzo noted, with cow patterns dotting the obnoxiously red fabric.

 

     “Hideous.” Hanzo slurred as Jesse laughed and padded over to slip into the bed beside him.

 

     “Now is that anyway to talk to your lover, Han? Why, I feel outright hurt that ya think my boxers are ugly, but since you’re so tuckered out, I reckon I’ll make an exception. But just this time, okay?”

 

     Hanzo snorted. “You are a crazy cowman, but you are my crazy cowman. I will make an exception for you. But just this time, understand?”

 

     “And that,” Jesse crooned as he wrapped an arm around Hanzo and pulled him closer, “is why I love ya. A right spitfire with as many needles as a cactus, but with a heart as warm as the sun. Well, when ya ain’t pissed I used all the hot water.”

 

     “I….” Hanzo started. “I…..”

 

     “Hm?”

 

     Hanzo looked into Jesse’s eyes as the cowboy stared back at him. Feeling flustered and hot, he forced himself to choke out the words that have been stuck in his throat for far too long. “You too, Jesse. I-” And he can't. The words won't leave and now Hanzo-

     “I know, Han,” Jesse cut in smoothly, “I’ve always known. You don’t hafta break your back tryin’ to say it. I know it’s tough.”

 

     “But how?”

 

     “Because I can see it in your eyes, ya know? The way they get brighter when ya look at me, or that smile ya get on your face when ya tell me my jokes are dumb but ya think they’re funny. I can see it right now, and it makes my heart jump because I love ya too.”

 

     And with that admission, Hanzo scoots over to plant a gentle kiss on Jesse’s lips with a smile across his face. Nerves and worries receded, they both settled down wrapped around each other tightly. But before Hanzo let himself go into the sweet embrace of sleep, he looked at the window across the room and studied the stars that twinkled outside and took his breath away with their beauty. Empowered by the safety of night and its comforting darkness, Hanzo brushed his lips across Jesse’s ear and whispered.

 

_      “I love you, Jesse.” _

**Author's Note:**

> My entry for McHanzo week 2017! Idk if I'll write more since I'm busy w/personal stuff, but after roaming around tumblr w/all these awesome fics and art, I just had to throw in my two cents. I'm from Texas, but it was kinda silly how frazzled I was with the dialogue (Damn you, McCree!). I'm good w/feels but not much else, lol. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this!


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